whole vortex

The one track repetitive purpose finds a way of repeating itself so the cycle of life keeps spinning out new product.


Lured by the phony pheromone smell emanating from a soft landing place the bee instinctually dives for the succulent protrusion deep within the vortex hole of flow-er-ness.


Drawn by the turbulent swirl around the hole that links to fresh air unwary victims fall into the calculated web with no hope of escape.


Subtle like the predominance of blue will ease serenity into a mood otherwise irritated the calm of water moving as spirit flows inside only needs colour to remind.


Somewhere in the confusion of the mesh of lines preventing access and interrupting perception a dragon is on the rise to devour the prize rabbit that just scurried down the hole and shadowed behind the hunter with image in mind.